Give a Man a Gun...

The last three or four weeks have just been... UGH. I got a really bad flu in combination with a bad fibromyalgia flare. I felt so terrible I wrote down all my online passwords in case I should croak.

Then, which I was just feeling well Madre and I went to the beach for our timeshare week. I felt fine but still hacked up phlegm all week. Got zero crafting done, and spent quite a lot of time in thrift stores (which is generally what Madre and I do, in addition to sitting on the beach with cocktails/food). I found this pretty awesome cross-stitch themed mug (if you want one and live near Morehead City, NC and want one, there's another at the thrift store run by the animal shelter).

I've been back home since Saturday, but my normal recovery time is further hampered by having to *do* things. Madre's moving house so I'm trying to be helpful there but I am beyond exhausted and aching now. I just want to curl up with a never-ending mug of tea and watch Rocky and Bullwinkle all day.

I did manage to finish a cross-stitch project yesterday and get the pattern posted in my shop. When I saw the quote (which it proves impossible to find an attribution for, though I have a feeling that it's a much older line which just suddenly gained new favor), I thought, as the Quakers do, "Friend speaks my mind."